Caroline Through the Looking Glass
by ovaltine8
Summary: While searching for a phone book under her stairs, Caroline falls into a series of multiple universes, each one stranger than the next. (Written in 1998 as a collaborative fic with Sarah Stella)
1. Part One

Caroline Through the Looking Glass by Ann Fox and Sarah Stella

**Caroline Through the Looking Glass**  
by [Ann Fox][1] and [Sarah Stella][2]  
1998  


**Author's Note:** I wrote this with my good pal Sarah Stella back in 1998. It was a lot of fun to write, and we enjoy feedback, despite the amount of time that has passed since it was written. Enjoy! 

******** 

**Part One**

******** 

A Wednesday like any other drizzled into Caroline's apartment, its inhabitant caught adrift in the midst of a week that didn't feel like it wanted to end anytime soon. Caroline deposited water, filter and coffee into her coffeemaker with zombie-like efficiency. The sharp scent of grounds filled the room, mixed with whatever French vanilla flavoring Starbuck's was using these days. 

It was 9 o'clock, at least half an hour until Richard rushed in the door, his clothes in disarray, spouting whatever weak excuse he'd managed to think up between the subway station and her apartment; at least an hour before Annie stumbled blindly in the door and drank two thirds of her coffee. Caroline smiled inwardly and poured herself a generous cupful. She had been working close to the wire these days, rushing on jobs that, previously, she and Richard had completed weeks in advance. 

Right now, she was in the middle of a relatively small batch of "Caroline" Father's Day cards. She moved over to her chair and settled in comfortably. _Might as well get some drawing in, anyhow_, she resolved. She'd color too if necessary but Richard wasn't usually _that_ late. She touched a newly sharpened pencil to a piece of white paper with a large, black-outlined box drawn in the middle. Part of her mind concentrated fiercely on the drawing in front of her while the other half skipped happily away down paths of unrelated thought. 

Richard and Julia's ten month anniversary was today, she realized with a start. Caroline bit her lip. When she had first learned about their marriage she had been crushed, but the one thing that had kept her from completely collapsing was the smug idea that they wouldn't last six months together. Now they were rapidly nearing the year mark. Caroline was ashamed of wishing something so horrible on one of her best friends and the woman he...loved. She pushed the thought into the back of her mind and firmly suppressed it with all the skill she'd inherited from her parents. 

A loud knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. 

"Open!" she called, not bothering to turn around. The door opened. "Hi, Del," she greeted him, still not looking his way. 

"Wow. How'd you do that?" 

"Richard never knocks. Charlie makes more noise. Annie's never up before 10 o'clock." 

Del smiled. "Pretty good. You are an amazing woman, Caroline." 

"What do you want?" 

Del feigned shock, a useless exercise since Caroline still hadn't turned to face him. "Can't one friend pay a compliment to another friend without that friend jumping on the other friend's back?" 

Caroline shook her head a little to clear away her confusion. "What do you want, Del?" she sighed. Whatever it was, she wasn't going to like it. 

Del dropped his pretense like a hot potato. "Christmas cards. Sorry, Duff. Charlie and I just closed this really excellent deal with Valu Drug. They want to sell your cards but they want 'em kinda early." 

"_Kinda_?" Caroline swiveled to face him. Her voice was edged with anger and frustration. "Del, it's only July." 

"I am sorry, Caroline," he said a touch testily. Caroline was taken aback, Del had never been even remotely testy with her before. "I guess I could just go back and tell them..." 

"No. I'll do it. It'll take me a few weeks to get an entire line together, though." 

"Great." Del kissed Caroline on the forehead. "I'll send Charlie over with the contracts for you to sign later today." Del exited the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind him. 

Moments later, the door reopened. "Forget something?" Caroline asked automatically, realizing half a second later that this wasn't Del. "Sorry, Richard. Never mind. I thought you were Del." 

Richard shuddered. "I passed the joy boy on my way in. What'd he want?" 

"We're doing some...." Caroline's voice trailed off into a murmur. 

"Christmas cards?" Richard asked incredulously. 

Caroline looked at him strangely. "You have ears like a bat." 

"I sense some overtime in the works." Richard's expression skirted close to a wry grin but skittered back into glumness at the last second. 

"Oh, that's right." Caroline smiled knowingly at him. "To make up for whatever you bought Julia. What did you get her? I know it's none of my business, but..." 

Richard looked at her in confusion. "Get her for what?" 

"Your ten-month anniversary. Isn't it today?" 

Richard's eyes grew very wide. "You need to get someone something for _that_?" 

Caroline shrugged. "I would, but that's just me. I take it this means you didn't get her anything." Richard shook his head. Caroline took a deep breath. "I can help you," she finally said, deciding this would qualify as penance for her earlier ideas about Richard and Julia's marriage failing. "There's this little flower shop about twelve blocks from here. Roses as big as your fist, colors you wouldn't believe." 

Richard's hands closed, steady and warm, over Caroline's forearms. "Thank you, Caroline." 

"No problem," she told him, smiling over the hitch in her voice. "I just need to find their number in the phone book. I'll only be a second." 

Caroline opened the door to the storage area under her stairs and pushed her way into its darkness. It seemed deeper than she remembered but she continued forward, sure that she'd stub her toe against the phone books any second now. Behind her, the door squeaked shut and Caroline was left in the close, confusing darkness. She made her way carefully towards what she hoped was the exit. One moment she was on solid ground in the mothball-scented closet; the next she was tumbling through velvet darkness. Wind rushed into her face. It smelled faintly of mint. Caroline hit the ground with a thump, bumping her head against the door latch. She must have just imagined falling; it had been so brief. Already the experience was fading into memory. 

******** 

**Continued in Part Two**

******** 

Please visit my Caroline in the City webpage: [Sincere Amore][3]  
  


   [1]: mailto:ovaltine8@yahoo.com
   [2]: mailto:soitgoes@witty.com
   [3]: http://www.sincereamore.com/



	2. Part Two

Caroline Through the Looking Glass by Ann Fox and Sarah Stella

**Caroline Through the Looking Glass**  
by [Ann Fox][1] and [Sarah Stella][2]  
1998  


******** 

**Part Two**

******** 

Caroline toggled the latch and opened the door, greeting Richard with a sheepish smile that froze awkwardly on her lips when she met his eyes. 

"What are you doing, Caroline?" he asked, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Caroline began to reply, but found that she was unable to speak. Here, before her was Richard, the very same man with whom she'd worked every day for nearly four years, yet something about him was inexplicably different. His physical appearance was unaltered, yet something about the way he presented himself was definitely changed. Caroline stared deeply into his eyes, trying to decide what exactly it was. 

When she didn't move or avert her gaze for several seconds, a look of concern crept into Richard's features. "Is something wrong?" he asked. 

Caroline stepped out from the closet and stood up, gently rubbing the growing welt on her scalp. "Um, I, uh, I'm not sure," she stammered, puzzling over the slightly coarse edge that Richard's voice seemed to project. It was almost as if he was just getting over a cold or a sore throat or something of that nature, but strangely, he hadn't shown any sign of illness a few minutes ago. 

_What is going on?_ she thought. 

Richard's concerned gaze deepened. As he grew increasingly more worried by the second, her confusion only heightened. She blinked her eyes a few times, but became frustrated when it did nothing to clear her mind. She looked up at Richard in desperation and he silently slid his arm around her shoulder and led her to the couch. As she sat down, she noticed that the couch cushions seemed much lumpier than she remembered them being. The air in the apartment felt slightly cooler than it had just minutes earlier. 

_Hitting my head must have screwed up my senses somehow_, she thought to herself. 

"What happened in there?" He reached up and placed his palm on her forehead. "Oh, Caroline, 'Ma Cherie', you're burning up! Did you hit your head?" 

_What?!_ Alarm bells began to sound in Caroline's mind. _Did he just call me "Ma Cherie"?!_ Memories of everything she and Richard had ever said to each other echoed through the foggy landscape of her anxious mind. Never in the three years she had known him had Richard ever addressed her in that way. And not in French, of all things! He hated French people! She shook her head violently, as if hoping to ward off these alien thoughts and feelings and return back to her "normal self". For that moment, she willed her mind to stop racing and looked up at Richard, who, despite his unusual behavior, seemed to be excessively concerned about her well-being. She decided she had better answer him before he asked again, and somehow she knew he would. 

"Uh, yeah, I think I whacked it on the door when I fell down." She squinted, as if trying to concentrate on a sound or smell just out of the range of her senses. "Do you smell mint, Richard?" 

"Mint?" he repeated incredulously as Caroline reached up and rubbed the painful, growing bump through her short red tresses. Wasting no time, he leaned over and began to examine her head. "Caroline, honey, how could you possibly have fallen down in there? That ceiling isn't even high enough for someone to stand up. I hope you're not starting to get clumsy in your old age." 

Caroline lifted her arms and pulled Richard's hands from her scalp. "Richard, what on earth are you talking about?" 

A look regret immediately washed over his features. "Oh, Caroline, I'm sorry. I know it's not something I should joke about, especially not now. But what in the world were you doing in there?" 

"I was getting the phone book for...," she trailed off, suddenly aware of what he'd just said to her. "What do you mean you shouldn't joke? And what is this about _old age_?" Her voice carried a tinge of anger in it that she hadn't quite intended. 

The left corner of Richard's mouth curved upwards nervously. "I know forty-two isn't technically _that_ old, but--" 

"Forty-two!" interjected Caroline, shooting from her seat like a bullet from a gun. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets, making her look amazingly like Marty Feldman as "Igor" in "Young Frankestein". "What do you mean, forty-two?! I'm only thirty-three! Is this some kind of joke or something? Because I have to say I am not finding this very funny!" 

Richard stood up, his brow furled with anxiety and worry. He gathered Caroline into his arms protectively. "Oh, 'Mon Petit Chou'," he sighed, "you must have hit your head harder than you thought." 

Caroline was startled at his uncharacteristic display of affection, and gently pushed him away. "Petty shoe?" she said, looking at him confusedly. "What is that?" 

Richard appeared to be just as confused with her behavior as she was with his, though he appeared slightly hurt. This confused her even more. "No, not 'Petty Shoe', Caroline," he corrected her. "It's 'Mon Petit Chou'. It's French for 'My Little Cabbage'...." When he saw no hint of recognition in her eyes, he slowly trailed off. "Oh come on, Caroline. Don't tell me you can't remember Paris? The spring of 2002? Our honeymoon?" 

His final two words sent a wave of shock through Caroline's body that caused her knees to buckle. Richard saw this immediately and ran over to catch her before she had a chance to hit the floor. Wearily, she looked into his eyes. "We're married?" she squeaked softly. 

Richard's jaw dropped in amazement as all the color drained from his face. His body temperature seemed to drop at least forty degrees and he began to shake. "You mean you....you really...._don't_ remember?" 

Frowning slightly as she saw how much distress her "misplaced memory" was causing Richard, she did the only thing she could think of--she apologized. "Richard, I'm really sorry. I don't remember. I don't know what's going on. I'm confused." 

Never had words had such a profound affect on him as they did with Caroline's admission that she could not remember being _married to him_. The wave of nausea continued to flood over his body until he felt completely numb. 

"Richard?" Caroline inquired anxiously. She brushed her fingers over his face as if trying to memorize it by touch. Caroline looked into his anxious eyes, noted the strain around his mouth and decided to humor him. After all, she'd dealt pretty well with that situation where she'd been trapped inside Julia's body, but this was so much better because she was _herself_. 

_Still, pretending to be his wife...again...is wrong_, her conscience nagged her. 

She looked at him once more, scrutinizing his face. He was essentially the same old Richard. The one with the quirky handsomeness she'd loved so easily...and so painfully. _Only for his sake_, she told herself. Richard noted the familiar softness in her face as she looked at him. The edges of his mouth curled up. 

"Richard, honey," she tried the endearment on for size, rolling it around to get the taste of it, "I...I don't know what's wrong with me. But I think maybe I should call my doctor." 

Richard nodded grimly, capturing her roving hand with his own. He kissed her softly on the web of skin between her index finger and thumb. "I think that's an excellent idea but I'll call." 

Caroline looked at him in alarm. "Richard, you don't..." 

Richard raised his eyebrows at her. "Don't what?" 

"Never mind," Caroline assured him, realizing that in this...alternate universe? possible future? (she hoped ardently for the latter)...he probably _did_ know her doctor's number and she just didn't realize it. She touched her head gingerly. Richard put an arm, steady and warm, around Caroline's waist. The pain from her lump was beginning to subside, only to be replaced by whirling thoughts as Caroline struggled to process all that had happened. 

Richard looked at Caroline, his eyes filled with concern and just a little pity. _Could I be going crazy?_ she asked herself over and over. _Maybe I just hit my head too hard. This could be real_, she realized with a thrill of pleasure. 

Nothing made sense: she and Richard married? Well, that part at least she liked. Impulsively she kissed him under the edge of his jaw and was rewarded with a brilliant smile. _Have to do that more often_, she noted silently. Everything else was screwy. Insanity very nearly explained it. The difference in her apartment and in Richard; her age. Still, there was an insistent niggle at the back of her mind. A sixth sense she didn't know she possessed. Something was _wrong_ about this; it wasn't just her imagination. It was the way her body fit together, the way his body fit together. The way the air felt on her face; the smells. Everything was a little off somehow, like a Xerox copy; almost the same but blurred a little around the edges. 

"Do you need anything while I'm up? A cup of tea? Green, loose, not bagged." He grinned at her and squeezed her shoulders. She reveled in the caring, loving way he touched her. 

"It's so peaceful," she murmured, turning her gaze from him to the falling...snow? Caroline squinted at the fat flakes lazing past her window and shook her head. _It was raining before. I **know** it was raining before._ The motion made her woozy and she slid into a slight daze. Richard stood up and grabbed the phone. 

Caroline felt cooler out of the circle of his arms and the chill revived her a little. Once again she focused on the task at hand--understanding her situation. She tiptoed away from the couch and peered into her hallway mirror as if she could divine the future by staring into its depths. She _wasn't_ older; her familiar features were almost wrinkle-free and her skin was still smooth. Shivering internally, Caroline retreated to the couch. She turned her discerning eye on Richard as he murmured quietly into the phone. He looked largely unchanged as she'd noted before. The lines of care around his mouth were deeper and she noted a fan of pure silver at his temples that hadn't been there that morning. 

"Can I ask you a silly question?" Caroline said after he'd hung up, her voice low and uncertain. 

"Shoot," Richard said agreeably, disappearing around the corner and returning with a blue and green plaid blanket. He seated himself beside her once more and wrapped the afghan around both of them. 

Before she began, Caroline admired the way the pure, clean sunlight fell on his face. She opened her mouth to ask him what month it was, what time it was, what year it was, knowing full well that any of these questions would cause him further distress. But she _had_ to know. The words crowded up in her mouth, pushing and shoving until a single idea broke free. "How did we finally get together?" 

That hadn't come out right at all. It wasn't what she needed to know. Caroline sighed. Practicality aside, she did need to know. What's more, she _wanted_ to know. Richard's lips parted in sadness and his voice was heavy when he answered her. 

"I thought at least you'd remember _that_." His tone was mildly chiding. "You told me it was the happiest day of your life. Even over our wedding day, Caroline." His voice was harsher now. Caroline blinked back the moisture that stung at her eyes. 

"I'm so, so sorry. I can't remember much of anything." 

Richard sighed. "It's okay, I shouldn't have brought it up. It's just...." Just as it seemed like he was about to reveal something, he changed his mind. "Well, don't you want to hear what the doctor said?" 

"What?" 

"He said it was probably nothing, but if you're still feeling bad in an hour or so I should take you to the hospital." Richard looked at her somberly. His expression brought a bittersweet pang of homesickness to her--it was so like _her_ Richard's. "Are you sure you don't remember _anything_?" 

"Some things," Caroline said cautiously. Wherever she was now, she couldn't be a hundred percent certain that his history was hers too. 

"Tell me the last thing you remember." 

"Well, it was your ten-month anniversary with Julia. I remember you hadn't gotten her a gift. You've probably forgotten," Caroline hastened to add. 

Richard looked at her strangely. She nervously tucked her feet up underneath her body. "Of course I remember. We were working on a batch of insanely early Christmas cards." Caroline nodded encouragingly. "We ordered the flowers, you even paid extra to have them delivered. A dozen maroon and cream roses." Richard's face was dreamy. "They _were_ beautiful," he half-whispered reverently, more in appreciation of the beauty than the gesture. "Too bad they were wasted," his voice was suddenly hard and bitter. "It was getting late and we'd been working almost the whole day without a break. We were both exhausted and then you handed me a panel to color and..." 

"And?" Caroline demanded eagerly, lacing her fingers through his. 

"And it was late and you were tired and the panel was a drawing of you and me and you had filled in the word bubble wrong and it said, 'I still love you. I don't know if I'll ever get over it.'" 

Caroline's eyes widened. "And?" 

"And I sat there for a while, gasping like a landed fish but then I said..." 

A horrific crash came from underneath the staircase. It was followed by the sounds of someone or something stumbling around in the darkness there. Caroline sprang to her feet. 

"You got other people stashed under there?" Richard inquired, raising an eyebrow. 

******** 

**Continued in Part Three**

******** 

Please visit my Caroline in the City webpage: [Sincere Amore][3]  
  


   [1]: mailto:ovaltine8@yahoo.com
   [2]: mailto:soitgoes@witty.com
   [3]: http://www.sincereamore.com/



	3. Part Three

Caroline Through the Looking Glass by Ann Fox and Sarah Stella

**Caroline Through the Looking Glass**  
by [Ann Fox][1] and [Sarah Stella][2]  
1998  


******** 

**Part Three**

******** 

Caroline didn't answer, she walked forward numbly and pulled the door open. Richard, _her_ Richard, fell out in a tumbled pile of dusty black clothes. 

He squinted up at her upside-down face. "I'd better get a raise for this." 

Caroline whipped her head around to face the "older version" of Richard. The space he had occupied just a second earlier was now vacant. Caroline was more confused than ever. Slowly turning back to face _her_ Richard, she couldn't mask her surprise. 

Richard stood up and dusted off his clothes, letting out a humungous sneeze. 

"Gesundheit," said Caroline, her voice trembling just a bit. 

Richard ran the back of his hand across his nose a few times. "You really have to dust under there more often. At least once every five years. It's disgusting." He brought his fisted hands up to his eyes and rubbed them gently. 

"What...uh...what were you doing down there?" asked Caroline cautiously, just as Richard's older counterpart had done earlier. _Older counterpart!_ she thought. _That sounds like something you'd see on "The Outer Limits" or something._ She silently chided herself for her obvious insanity. 

Richard's brow furled. "What do you mean, 'What was I doing in there'?! You begged me for more than three hours to crawl in there and investigate that 'foul smell' we've had to put up with for the past two days!" Both his tone and his expression conveyed apparent agitation. 

Caroline decided to go along with it, even though she was still as confused as ever. "So, what did you find?" she asked. 

Richard stared at her intensely for several seconds before retreating back into the closet. Caroline heard a thump-thump-slide-thump-slide-thump noise. Soon a small furry animal--a very limp and clearly _dead_ animal--emerged from the closet with a nudge from Richard's boot. 

Caroline let out a short but horrific shriek and clapped her palm over her mouth and nose. "Eeeewwww," she said, the sound greatly muffled beneath her hand. 

"What? You never got squirrels in Wisconsin?" asked Richard monotonously. 

Caroline lowered her hand. "Oh my God," she breathed disgustedly. "How did that thing get in there?" 

"Well, I don't know," replied Richard sourly, "but I think we need to get rid of it _now_." 

"What should we do with it?" Caroline asked. 

"What do you normally do with dead animals?" 

"I don't know. I don't _normally_ get dead animals in my apartment. Salty gets most of the mice before they have a chance to decompose. I've never had a squirrel before." Caroline was thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Annie throws everything in the incinerator, regardless of what it is. What do _you_ do when you find rotting quadruped corpses in _your_ apartment?" 

Richard scrunched up his nose in what seemed to be repulsion, though Caroline knew it was more disgust over the sadness of his life in general than the rodents which frequented his filthy living quarters. She felt a pang of guilt, but sadly, she knew there was nothing she could do about it. 

"Truthfully?" he asked. 

Caroline nodded, wondering why he would consider _not_ telling the truth. 

"Well, I..." Richard began, but paused as if reconsidering. "Oh, who cares what I do? Let's just get rid of this thing before it smells up the whole apartment." 

Caroline looked at him exasperatedly as she rubbed her head; the welt was beginning to subside. "Well, what are we going to do with it?" she repeated. 

"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you wrap it up in a box and give it to Annie?" 

Through narrowed eyes, Caroline glared at him. Wordlessly, she turned from Richard, walking into the kitchen to get a plastic bag from a cupboard. When she turned back around, he was gone. Caroline craned her neck as she surveyed the apartment. "Richard?" she called. No response. When she returned to where she'd been standing before she'd gone for the bag, she immediately noticed the squirrel carcass was also missing. _I bet he took it to the incinerator_ thought Caroline, curling her lip up in disgust. She carried the bag out into the hallway as she made her way to the incinerator. 

Caroline did not find Richard by the incinerator. With a sigh, she returned to her apartment and shut the door. This was getting too weird. She hadn't even turned her back on him for five seconds and he'd disappeared without a trace. No, wait--back up a second. First she'd gone in the closet to get a phone book--that she could remember. Then she'd hit her head and she was suddenly married to Richard--in the future. Then...what had happened next? Somehow Richard had tumbled out of the closet, even though he was standing right next to her just a fraction of a second earlier. And now he'd disappeared again. 

What on earth was going on? Had the fabric of time suddenly torn and she was somehow living segments of her future and present life? Was this some kind of alternate reality? Or some weird combination of both? The events had seemed real enough, but the _reality_ of those events had not. She couldn't remember smelling anything unpleasant over the past few days, that she was pretty sure of. Not absolutely sure, but _pretty_ sure. She knew she was not married to Richard, at least not in the _present_ reality that she was aware of. 

Caroline's mind struggled to make some sense of the strange situation she'd been tossed into. Struggled, fought, and gave up. Caroline sighed in defeat; she simply could not decide what to make of it. She flopped down onto the couch and lay there for several minutes, trying to will all thought to leave her mind, hoping that somehow this would bring her some insight. _The closet. The closet. The closet. The closet. The closet_. From somewhere inside, the words were suddenly and forcefully thrust into her head, repeated over and over until she was practically forced to sit up and look in its direction. 

She stood up carefully and walked over to the small door. There was only one way she was ever going to gain any sort of insight into this matter. Decisively, she opened the door and crept inside. 

As before, the door banged shut after her before she had a chance to prop it open. The darkness was primeval and absolute. A swirled, confused feeling of deja vu engulfed her but she continued to make her way resolutely forward, holding her hands out in front of her. At any moment, she expected the floor to give way so she could tumble down the rabbit hole..._again_. Caroline hummed a few bars of "Yesterday" under her breath to ease her anxiety. The sound twisted and bounced back to her ears with a strange flatness. 

Her hands encountered the smooth panels of the far wall and she turned around, sighing heavily. Maybe she was destined to be trapped in this mint-smelling future after all, where everyone thought she was forty-two and married to Richard. As if on cue, the scent of mint, sharp and spicy, reached her nose as she crawled for the door. Her hands tumbled over each other when she undid the latch. 

******** 

**Continued in Part Four**

******** 

Please visit my Caroline in the City webpage: [Sincere Amore][3]  
  


   [1]: mailto:ovaltine8@yahoo.com
   [2]: mailto:soitgoes@witty.com
   [3]: http://www.sincereamore.com/



	4. Part Four

Caroline Through the Looking Glass by Ann Fox and Sarah Stella

**Caroline Through the Looking Glass**  
by [Ann Fox][1] and [Sarah Stella][2]  
1998  


******** 

**Part Four**

******** 

Taking a deep breath, Caroline pushed the door open, peeping through the gap. Richard wasn't at the partners' desk. She opened the door wider and peered around the edge. There he was, looking as at home in the kitchen as she'd ever seen him. He was mixing something interesting-looking and orange in the blender. She watched as he dropped a few mint leaves into the concoction and continued mixing it. _Well at least that explains **something**_. 

"Richard!" Caroline hissed, just loud enough to be heard over the loud, mechanical whirring. 

Richard turned to face her. "Oh, there you are." He wrinkled his brow at her. "What on earth are you doing in there? I thought you were going to get changed for dinner." 

"Uh...I..._was_, but I thought I'd left my favorite pair of black shoes in here." 

If it was possible, Richard's eyebrows climbed even higher up on his forehead. "Caroline, Del wrecked your favorite black shoes when he and Charlie got stuck in that snowstorm awhile back." 

"Right! Well, that explains why they're not here." Caroline opened the door and clambered to her feet. 

"Sneakers will do. I told you that before, but you never listen..." 

"Richard," Caroline said, stepping neatly on the beginning of Richard's rant, "do me a favor?" 

"Anything." He waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. 

"Tell me how old I am." 

"So we're gonna play _that_ game again," he said like he was tired of saying it. 

"Again?" 

"Thirty-four. Would you care to enlighten me?" 

"Y'know," Caroline said hastily, "I think I'll go up and change for dinner after all. It's dusty under there; I really should clean more often." She pounded quickly up the stairs, away from his inquisitive face. 

Once she was safely upstairs, Caroline slammed the door. She clicked the lock into place and surveyed the room. She was younger here, wherever here was, and she hoped that was a good sign. But she was still no closer to determining what on earth was happening. Her eyes caught and held against a small, shiny object on her dresser. 

A key. 

_Am I going to give this to Richard tonight_? she wondered. 

She walked into the bathroom, opened the cold water spigot, splashed some water on her face and patted it dry before examining her reflection critically in the bathroom mirror. 

Caroline had played "Bloody Mary" only once, on a dare. She had chanted "One Bloody Mary. Two Bloody Mary...." all the way up to a hundred. She had never done it again because, as she watched, her frightened fourteen-year-old face had wavered like an unsteady candle flame before blinking out completely and being replaced by a pure, cold blue glow. She'd run out of the bathroom screaming and had slept with the lights on for a month. This was almost the same. Her weary face flickered and vanished, but this time it wasn't replaced with the unearthly specter of a dead queen but a familiar scene from her own life. 

She saw the main room of her apartment, as if she was looking at it from the top of the steps. Richard and someone who looked remarkably like herself were seated there. The Caroline apparition handed Richard a flat to color. A few seconds later he froze and looked up very slowly. The other Caroline met his eyes, jumped to her feet and gestured wildly before running out the door, leaving the other Richard to pace slowly back and forth. 

Caroline, mesmerized by the scene, reached her fingertips out towards the characters. When her skin touched the mirror it didn't feel much like glass at all. It was a little warm and it seemed to pulse and ooze under her touch. As strangely as it had appeared, the scene vanished and was replaced by a startlingly real image of Richard down on one knee, with a small velveteen box in his hand, which was extended toward a shocked and delighted Caroline. 

"Caroline?" Richard called loudly from the foot of the stairs. 

"What?" a thin strand of hysteria ran under the edge of her voice. 

"Are you coming? Dinner's ready!" 

"Oh...okay!" Caroline dashed out of the room, her speed motivated more out of fear of the image in the mirror than any eagerness to converse with this version of Richard. She'd have to take her first chance and crawl under the stairs again. One of these times, she was bound to end up in her proper place. Still, yielding to a temporary impulse, she grabbed the key from off the dresser and shoved it into the pocket of her jeans. 

Caroline bounded down the stairs and breezed past Richard to take a seat at the table. Richard sat opposite her, looking a little miffed. 

"It looks great, Richard," she told him sincerely before picking up her fork and stabbing nervously at the Caesar salad that sat in front of her. 

"Thanks." They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Richard broke it, saying, "I talked to Gene Davies today." 

Caroline looked up blankly. "Who?" 

"Head Curator at MoMA. I've only told you about him a million times." 

"Well, what did he say?" 

"He said they'd love to have me on board as Assistant Curator for next season." 

"Richard, that's great!" Caroline enthused, riding on pure instinct that this would be a good thing. She jumped to her feet and embraced him. 

"This is a shock," Richard said, holding her at arms' length. "I thought you'd be upset." 

"Not at all." 

"Even if it means I have to move all the way uptown?" 

"Even if..." Caroline trailed off. A small shudder went through her and she felt the cool touch of the Caroline who belonged in this time, this space. The key in her pocket weighed heavily against her hip. "Of course I'm happy for you." She hugged him again. "It just means we can't see each other as much, right?" 

"Not if I can help it." He squeezed her, planting a kiss in her hair. 

Caroline gazed absently past him. Most of her apartment's windows were standing open and the midsummer breeze curled among her things, but the window directly opposite to where she and Richard were standing was closed. She had always had trouble getting it to open in the first place. The lights inside her apartment reflected back to her in a dusky mirror but as she watched, the images winked out and were replaced by the scene she'd seen earlier--Richard, down on one knee, proposing. The picture vibrated subtly, like a plucked harp string and the woman to whom he was proposing became a long-legged brunette with classic good looks. 

A pang of sadness struck Caroline in the chest and she was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of great loss and heartache. She felt her eyes stinging with tears. Apprehensively, she moved away from Richard towards the image inside the window. 

Focusing only on what she saw in front of her, she didn't even hear Richard call her name. At the window, she rested her forearms on the ledge, enraptured as she watched the scene unfolding before her. The brunette pulled the other Richard from his knee and wrapped her arms around him exuberantly. Even with the absence of sound from the picture, she knew that the woman had undoubtedly accepted Richard's proposal. A huge smile crept into Richard's features, lighting up his face and breaking the mask of melancholy which normally hid his true feelings. He seemed truly happy. Caroline's heart sank. It was not a scene from the future, she realized, but a scene from the past. It was Richard proposing to Julia the night Caroline had finally decided to reveal her true feelings for him without realizing that he'd just become unavailable. 

"What are you looking at?" asked Richard, suddenly behind her. 

Caroline jumped in surprise, unwittingly dispelling the image from the window. Instead of Richard and Julia before her, she now saw the buzzing city below her--the passers-by and the congested street, as viewed from a simple second-story window of a typical apartment building, not a movie screen from another dimension. She sighed. 

"You're not worried about that bum again, are you?" Richard inquired. "You know I told him to get lost. I made it clear to him that Salty is not a delicacy. I think he got the idea when I threatened to return his shopping cart to Macy's and report him to the police. He's had a real scare with them in the past, I guess. Something about an incident with a dry cleaning store. I didn't ask, though. As long as it got him to stop lusting after your cat as if she were a chicken, that was enough for me." 

Caroline continued to stare out at the street below, not really hearing anything Richard was saying to her. Suddenly she felt his hands on her shoulders as he began to rub her weary muscles. "Caroline?" he ventured quietly when she did not answer him. 

"Hmm?" she replied, the sound escaping as more of a whimper than a true response. 

"Do you remember that time awhile ago when I went to see that matinee of 'Rent' and told you that I needed the afternoon off so I could paint?" 

Not having any recollection of that whatsoever but not wanting Richard to become any more suspicious of her than he already was, she said, "How could I forget that?" 

Massaging her neck softly, he continued, "Do you remember how upset you were afterwards when you found out that I had lied to you? How you made me promise that we both had to be completely honest with each other from then on, no matter what?" 

"Yes," she replied, leaning into his warm and strong hands. 

Richard let out a heavy sigh and stopped working his hands into her neck. Caroline turned around to face him, wondering what he was thinking. She reluctantly met his eyes, a strange feeling of disrepute building inside her stomach. What she saw there was exactly what she expected, even though she didn't quite understand it--deep concern laced with what she was certain was pity, pouring forth from him and drowning Caroline in a flood of shame. Once again she felt the sting of tears and she blinked them back. Despite her confusion, she had to seem strong. At least that's what she told herself. Anything to keep herself from bursting out into tears. 

"Caroline?" whispered Richard. It was really more of a statement than a question. 

She answered him with a tremble of her lower lip. 

Richard pinched both his lips between his teeth, as if deciding how to phrase his next words. "That never happened, Caroline," he said softly. 

"What?" she replied. 

He brought his palm up to his forehead and rubbed it gently, as if to ward off a headache. "I never saw 'Rent'. I never asked for that afternoon off. We never had that talk......This was a test." He paused, as if attempting to gauge Caroline's reaction. She simply stood there as if she'd just been tranquilized with a heavy dose of sedative, saying nothing, just blinking in disbelief. "I was thinking.....maybe it's time that we _did_ have that talk.......I'm getting a little worried about you," said Richard sincerely. 

After awhile, Caroline finally shrugged defeatedly. "Richard, I can't pretend this anymore," she mumbled. 

"Pretend what?" he asked. 

"Pretend that I'm not confused. Pretend that I actually _know_ what's going on around me. That I'm me. That you're you. That I haven't gone insane." Having said that, she broke down and began to cry softly. 

Richard immediately took her into his arms and held her tightly against him. "No, Caroline, don't say that. If there's anything I know for sure, it's that you haven't gone insane. You're just a little preoccupied, that's all. And it's okay. It happens to everyone once in awhile." 

"But what am I preoccupied with?" she sniffed. 

"I don't know," replied Richard honestly. "I was hoping that was something you'd be able to tell me." Caroline trembled in his arms, crying harder. He knew she wouldn't be able to tell him if she herself didn't know what was going on. He decided the only thing he could do was to offer her comfort. They would get through this somehow. "Caroline, you don't have to be afraid. You can tell me anything. Anything, even if you think it's insignificant, just tell me. All I want to do is understand." 

"Me too," whimpered Caroline. She thought about everything she'd seen that day. How many different periods of her own life she'd stumbled into after disappearing into the closet. She knew there was something very significant about everything she'd seen and experienced--that there was a reason behind it all. She was _so_ close to uncovering it, too. Someone, somewhere was trying to tell her something. Was it a higher power trying to speak to her? Was it her own subconscious forcing her to look at the condition of her own existence? Was she having some twisted, contorted dream, controlled by forces beyond her control? Any of these were very likely possibilities, and she wasn't about to outrightly dismiss any of them. 

When she'd calmed herself enough to stop shaking, she gently pulled back from Richard's embrace and reached into her pocket. He watched her cautiously as she produced a plain-looking silver key, which she placed in the palm of his hand. He regarded it closely for a moment, wishing desperately he could recognize it, but shook his head sadly when he realized he hadn't the foggiest idea where it had come from. He handed it back to her. She turned it over in her hand. 

"I found it on my dresser," she said. 

"Do you recognize it?" asked Richard. 

"No." Caroline shook her head resolutely. "I have no idea what it's for." 

Richard shrugged his shoulders. "Well, hold onto it. Maybe you'll remember." 

She nodded solemnly, but both she and Richard knew she had no hope of ever remembering. 

"Caroline," said Richard, "I know you're confused, and I really wish there was something I could do to help you, but are you sure there's nothing strange you remem....." He trailed off as he shifted his gaze to the stairs. Focusing on the door below the steps for a moment, he then looked deeply into Caroline's eyes. "Does it have anything to do with the closet?" 

Caroline was sort of hoping that he wouldn't have noticed, because she kind of wanted to keep that to herself. Perhaps part of her hoped that the next time she went inside, she'd be transported back to where she was supposed to be. There was nothing she could do now to cover it up. 

Sighing as she worked up her courage, she told Richard how she'd stumbled out of the closet and walked into another time and perhaps, another dimension. She could see in Richard's eyes that he didn't believe her, but he nodded in support, urging her to continue her story. She described how she seemed to have been transported to different periods of her own life, conveniently neglecting to mention the fact that a different version of Richard in a different phase in their relationship, had appeared in each scene. It seemed too crazy to begin with--she didn't want to make it sound worse and possibly make Richard freak out. 

"So, in essence, you feel like every time you go back inside, you are coming closer to a revelation?" he summed up. 

"I guess," she replied. 

"Well, the solution is simple, then. Go back inside and see what happens." 

"I guess that's all I can do," she decided. 

"But this time," Richard said, "I'm coming with you." 

Caroline looked him straight in the eye, her gaze unwavering and strong for the first time in a long while. "No," she said simply. 

"No? Caroline...I..." 

"No, Richard," she said again, her voice even stronger. "I think that this thing...whatever's wrong with me...well, it's _my_ problem. I don't want to drag you into it." 

"Caroline, I love you. Don't shut me out like this." 

Caroline shook her head sadly. "But _I_ don't love _you_ because you're not you. I mean, not really you; just like I'm not really your Caroline, and the sooner I go in there," she jerked her thumb towards the closet, "the sooner everything can get back to normal." 

Richard's lips parted in disbelief. Caroline took a deep breath and opened the closet door, she turned once more toward his astonished face. She wrinkled her brow at him. "Say, Richard? Have you ever wondered if someone could become, well, _unstuck_ in time?" 

Without waiting for him to answer, Caroline let the door swing shut behind her and made her way into the now-familiar darkness that was under her stairs, yet the bridge to somewhere new. She inched ahead, dreading the moment when the ground would vanish from under her feet and send her tumbling. She caught the scent of mothballs as she moved forward before finally tripping into space. She landed with a solid bump. Moments later, the door cracked open and a blinding flash of light sliced neatly into her light-sensitive eyes. 

"Ow," she complained automatically. 

"Well, did you find it?" Richard's annoyed, yet oddly comforting, voice asked. 

"Find what?" she replied tentatively. 

"The phone book. You can't have forgotten already." 

"Oh. Right." Caroline reached far to her right and caught her fingers against the yellow pages. "Here." 

"Thanks." Richard helped her out of the closet. She dusted herself off. He raised an eyebrow. "You really ought to clean under there more often." 

Caroline nodded at him. "I know." 

A heartbeat of strange silence passed between them. Something seemed to struggle for awareness in both sets of eyes. The air was whirling with unspoken thoughts. 

Caroline coughed and broke the spell. "Well, I guess we should get back to work. Whaddya say?" She seated herself at the partners' desk and began to sketch furiously. 

"In a minute. What did you say that florist's name was?" 

"Bella Flora. I'm pretty sure," Caroline said, not looking up from her drawing. She heard the swish-swish of Richard flipping through the phone book. Caroline stared hard at her sketch. It was she and Richard under the cilantro, both looking a tad uncomfortable. _I used to think there was nothing weirder than Christmas in July_. Caroline let out a soft peal of laughter. 

"What sort of flowers, do you think?" Richard asked, placing one hand over the phone. 

She considered this a minute. Maybe if she said anything...anything but maroon and cream.... She'd never really believed the future was preordained. 

"Maroon and cream roses. A dozen--don't be chintzy." 

Richard frowned hard at her but placed the order anyway. "They want ten bucks extra for delivery." 

"Do it." Assuring her own future by following the paths that others had taken...it wasn't _exactly_ breaking them up. "I'll pay." 

Richard's face softened. "That's decent of you, Caroline." 

She waved the gesture off. "Least I could do." 

When he had finished, Richard hung up the phone and joined Caroline at the partners' desk. Whatever had happened to her today had happened for a reason. Be it God, Fate or Chaos that had intervened when she'd stepped through the closet door, she'd been given a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Neatly and deliberately, she filled in the word bubble, 'I still love you. I don't know if I'll ever get over it.' 

Bravely, she handed it to Richard, shifting a little in her seat as she did so. Something in her pocket poked hard into her hip. With slight difficulty, she pulled the offending object out where she could see it. 

The key. 

Caroline turned it over in her hands, half-mesmerized by its silvery smoothness. Her fingers caught over some unevenness and she brought the key closer to her eyes. In her peripheral vision, she saw Richard freeze as he read and processed the message she'd sent him. Caroline read the words inscribed on the top of the key very carefully: "To my heart". She tucked the key back into her pocket, knowing for certain that it would appear again shortly, and looked at Richard expectantly. 

******** 

**The End**

******** 

Please visit my Caroline in the City webpage: [Sincere Amore][3]  
  


   [1]: mailto:ovaltine8@yahoo.com
   [2]: mailto:soitgoes@witty.com
   [3]: http://www.sincereamore.com/



End file.
